Ryuichi
by eleleth
Summary: The tale of Asami Ryuichi, from his birth until the introduction of one particularly troublesome photographer into his life. M for themes, violence, death of a child, etc.
1. Prologue

**Sooo yeah, a couple of you might recognize this story, but it is still mine and I am still working on it. This is the story of Asami Ryuichi, before he met Akihito. Yeah. The whole story. Some of you might accuse me of something akin to blasphemy, but... please understand, this is just my take on the character.**

**This is the prologue. I hope you enjoy.**

Asami Ryo smiles to herself as she looks outside the window of her family's first floor apartment. She finds some peace in doing dishes and more still in seeing her beautiful little Ichiro, just turned seven, playing outside in the sunshine. She stands with a straight back and strong shoulders despite her heavy, pregnant belly.

She turns from the window, back to her chore. She scrubs each dish and cup with care, using a tattered old rag. The water in the sink turns cold and brown as she nears the end of her task.

A loud crack breaks her tranquil reverie and she looks out the window once more in time to see her beautiful son fall to the ground with a red hole through his skull. She is outside before she even realizes that she has moved and there is a man in a black suit standing next to a black car and she screams from her soul and falls helplessly to the ground as he empties the clip into her son's chest.

The next thing she remembers is her husband, Yasotaro, shaking her awake and for one glorious moment, it is all a horrible nightmare until she looks over to see Ichiro lying in a pool of blood. She rushes to his side and cradles his body. His blood stains her apron-covered, swollen womb. Though tears stream down her face, she makes no sound.

When the police arrive, she tries to tell them everything, but she throws up instead. She cannot, will not, look at anything other than the body of her son being lifted onto a gurney.

"Are you taking him to the hospital?" she asks quietly.

The police officer tries gently, awkwardly, to explain that her son is being taken to the coroner's office. That he's dead.

She runs to Ichiro's body, throwing herself at him. "My baby," she strokes his hair back from his face, ignoring the bullet wound through his forehead. There is still so much blood.

Ichiro is taken away and she never sees him again.

Yasotaro tells them he can't think of anyone who would want to hurt Ichiro and Ryo doesn't know it's a lie.

The police officer tells them to call if they remember anything and as quickly as they came, they are gone, with nothing but blood-stained concrete to prove Ichiro was ever there.

As if it were a cruel joke by the Gods, Ryo goes into labor that night, almost two months early. Curled up on Ichiro's bed, she knows the first contraction is coming before it hits but the pain doesn't bother her and she feels almost nothing. But there is blood. More blood, unnoticeable against her clothing.

At the hospital, they tell her it was simply contractions, a false alarm, not real labor. Possibly brought on by stress and Yasotaro tells them about Ichiro and they insist she stay in the hospital. Just to see.

Over the next few days there are whispers. Talk of her losing the baby, amazed she's held on this long. They do not know that she hears them and her resolve continues to harden. Losing one child was too much. Losing two would be the end of her and she knows it. Ryo is determined to go on, to live and so she will not lose this child.

Her doctors and nurses begin to refer to her as having the strength of a dragon, until eventually they call her the "Dragon-lady." It is behind her back, but she hears it the same way she hears the whispers of her impending miscarriage.

On the third morning, her meditations are interrupted by Yasotaro who sits at her bedside and finally explains what happened. His Yakuza dealings. How he thought he'd have the money in time, but another man fell through on his end of the deal. His story is heard intently, but his apologies fall on deaf ears. His tears against her unfeeling hands.

"Out," she orders.

"Ryo, please..."

"You killed our son, I won't let you kill this child too. Out."

"Ryo."

"I said OUT!"

After that, Ryo never sees Yasotaro again. That night, the contractions return, but she says nothing and they go away.

The fourth morning rises with a nurse coming in to check on Ryo, as usual. She adjusts the IV drip and checks all the machinery and jumps when Ryo asks her,

"How much longer are they going to keep me here? I have things to do."

The nurse takes a breath and answers, "They are just waiting to see if you are alright, Asami-san."

"You mean they are waiting for me to lose my baby."

The nurse bites her lip. "It might be for the best. Who knows? It will be very difficult for you to raise a child on your own. And after such a trauma... It would be nothing to be ashamed of if you lost it."

Ryo is furious at the impolite, impudent speech, but smiles, "Perhaps it would have been best if your mother had lost you."

The nurse puts her hand over her mouth and looks away, as if trying not to cry, before leaving the room, muttering "Damn dragon."

Ryo determines then, that the baby will not only be born, but it will be healthy and perfect just like her precious Ichiro was. She vows to protect the child no matter the cost. Her next child will be free of the influence of crime lords and their underlings, of guns and of drugs.

Her hatred for the men that killed her son, including her husband, grows and fuels her fire and on the fifth morning, she has contractions again. She clutches her stomach as if trying to hold the baby in while the doctors stand by. She curls up into herself and doesn't scream.

At night, a yakuza comes to her room, his face is unforgettable, unmistakable as the same man who shot Ichiro. He sits in a chair across from Ryo's bed and folds his hands under his chin.

Her face remains flat, showing no trace of shock or anger, nor the murderous intent that she feels rise up in her chest. She crosses her arms and matches his stare.

"Where is he?" the man asks.

"I don't know," she replies.

"You're his wife."

"I was his wife." Then there is silence.

"It wasn't anything personal, you know."

"Tell me, do they pay you well for what you do?"

"Like I said, it's nothing personal."

"Indeed. My baby was just another body to you, I'm certain. And does it bother you when you use that money to buy your fancy suits and nice shoes?"

"Does it bother you that your husband is a coward? Tell me where he is."

She looks away. "I don't know where he is."

He furrows his eyebrows and slips a Dunhill cigarette between his lips, lighting it and taking a long drag. "Look, lady, I got no problem killing you if you're lying."

"What is your name?"

"It's nothing to you."

"That's right. You are nothing. You're scum. Yakuza scum."

The man takes another long drag from his cigarette, twitching his fingers over the gun slung from his hip. "Will that help? To know my name?"

"Yes."

The man rises, deciding she isn't lying. He walks toward the door, smirking. "I'll tell you if you promise to name that one after me, Dragon-lady."

Ryo balks and the man laughs, slamming the door as he leaves. As soon as he is gone, Ryo walks into the bathroom to calm herself, splashing some water over her face. Not a second later, her water breaks. She calls for a nurse who brings a doctor.

She refuses the pain medication they offer her once she is dilated enough. At ten centimeters, they tell her to push and she does not scream or cry though sweat pours down her face, coats her entire body. The head is hard, the shoulders are harder and it takes nearly all night, but then he is out and crying and cleaned off and they lay him on her stomach.

On the morning of August fourth, six weeks premature, Asami Ryo gives birth to a tiny baby boy. But he is alive. He clenches onto Ryo's finger as if his little life depends on it.

She shivers as she holds him close and kisses his forehead. He has to be pried from her arms and taken to the NICU because he is so small, but they can find nothing wrong with him, much to the amazement of the doctors.

When he is returned to her, he responds in instant recognition of the sound of her voice as she tells him how he will be nothing like his father, how he will be a great man, how he will have a better life than all of that, that he will never need to turn to the yakuza, how she loves him and how he will always be her baby.

"What is his name?" the doctor asks her.

Ryo smiles as the name comes to her in a bolt of inspiration. Indeed it is the only name that could ever fit him. "Ryuichi. Asami Ryuichi."

**TBC. Updates on this story might be slow, it's more like an on-going side project, but I promise to update it.  
**

**Love, El  
**


	2. Prologue 2

**LOL. Okay guys, I screwed up. I posted the WRONG chapter for this story. THIS is the correct chapter. Hopefully now this story will make a little more sense, yeah? Mwah! **

Asami Ryuichi is barely four years old and he likes two things. The first is eating as many sweets as he possibly can and the second is...

"Ryuichi! What have you done now!" Ryo runs her fingers back through her hair and releases a long breath like a pressure valve.

...making a really big mess. In point of fact, what he has done now is tip over a large bowl of white rice off the counter onto himself and all over the floor. It was not by accident.

Ryo knows as much and scoops him up and swats him soundly on his bottom - just once because once is all it ever takes to stop his nearly maniacal giggling. "What am I going to do with you, kaiju?"

Ryuichi doesn't cry, he never cries, he just becomes quiet and serious. He stares at his mother with eves that match hers, his little mouth set in a hard line. "Gomen," he mumbles petulantly.

She surveys the damage - sticky white grains drying all over the floor and in her son's hair and bites her lip to keep from smiling. "I should make you pick up every grain of rice with chopsticks." She plops him down on the floor.

Obediently, he stands and goes to the drawer where they are kept and pulls out a set of chopsticks. They are blue with yellow stars on them and not his familiar set that Ryo has tied together to facilitate his learning to use them.

No. These once belonged to his brother.

Ryo snatches them out of his hand before he can examine them and ask questions. "Just pick up the rice and put it in the bowl."

He sits down on the floor and scoops up the larger piles, dumping them into the bowl. When the piles are gone, he picks up each individual grain between his tiny fingers and places it in the bowl. "Kaasan, it's hard," he complains, "there are so many."

Ryo is still staring at Ichiro's chopsticks. "Don't whine, Ichi- Ryuichi," she sets the chopsticks back in the drawer, shakes herself of the sadness and smiles at her second son. She sits down next to him and places her hand over the grains, letting them stick to her hand and then brushes them off over the bowl. "Try it like this," she shows him.

Ryuichi fans out his hand and tries the same thing, laughing gleefully when he is successful.

Ryo laughs too and continues helping him until the rest of the rice can be swept up with a broom. "Come here." She hugs her son tightly and kisses his rice-encrusted hair. She pulls him back and looks him in the eye. "Oh my little troublemaker," she mutters.

"Kaasan, can I play outside now?"

"Not right now, I have laundry to finish." After the departure of her husband, Ryo had started a small laundry business. She makes enough to keep food on the table and clothes on their backs, with the occasional toy for Ryuichi, but not much else.

Ryuichi does almost nothing on his own, he does not attend yochien as Ryo educates him herself at home (she taught him to read at age three). And he never, ever plays outside alone.

"But I'm a big boy now," he protests. "I can play outside by myself, I promise!"

"Not big enough," she answers, not knowing if he ever will be.

Ryuichi pouts and flops into a pile of freshly laundered clothes, snuggling into them.

"Oh Ryuichi! Get out of there, you're all dirty. I'll have to wash those again now. Honestly, can't you go five minutes without making a mess?"

"Gomen nasai, Kaasan._"_

"Com on, let's put you in the bath."

He trudges off to the room, dragging his slippered feet.

Ryo follows him to scrub him until all of the rice is floating in the water. "Kaiju," she mumbles affectionately. She pulls him out and dries him with a white, thread-bare towel, which leaves his skin red. It is not the first time she has contemplated stealing from one of her customers and it will not be the last.

Once he is dressed, she kisses him on the head. "Please go play in the bedroom."

"I want to play outside."

"No."

The apartment is small. The living room, if it could be called such, is constantly full of laundry and there is only one bedroom, which mostly serves as storage for Ryuichi's mess.

"And pick up your toys while you're in there."

The little boy huffs, but does as he is asked.

At night they sleep in the same bed, although it is difficult to say that much sleeping happens. Ryuichi is a light sleeper, as if he is always on alert and it is not uncommon for Ryo to wake up in the middle of the night to him playing on the floor with his toy cars or bouncing a ball gently off the wall.

Tonight is no different, except she wakes to the sound of his voice.

He is sitting on the floor building a tower with his blocks, which he hasn't played with in ages.

"Ryuichi, what-" she freezes as she realizes her son is not alone.

Sitting in the chair in the corner is the man who shot Ichiro. In the light he looks more haggard than the last time she saw him. It is easy to see that he has been beaten. Ryo feels no sympathy.

"What are you doing here?" she growls. "How did you get in?"

"An amateur could break into this apartment, my dear," he answers coolly, rolling a block between his hands, as if he might throw it at any moment.

"May I have that please?" Ryuichi asks, holding out his hand for the block.

The man gives him the block, "Sure, kid." He turns to Ryo. "Such a polite and handsome son you have, Asami-san. You should be very proud."

"What do you want?"

"Where is he?"

"What on earth makes you think I know where he is?"

"You're his wife. That is his son," it's not quite a threat, but Ryo understands.

"Ryuichi, come to mommy, please."

"I'm not done with my tower! Satoh-san says I should use all the blocks and make it really tall."

"I will help you with that later, my love, just come here please."

Ryuichi can tell his mother is afraid and he does not know why, but he crawls into her arms anyway.

"So your name is Satoh," she says to the man.

"That is what you may call me, yes." He gingerly slides his gun from the holster at his hip, running his fingers over the barrel, smiling as Ryuichi stares at it in fascination.

Ryo recognizes that gun as easily as she recognizes Satoh's face and she holds her second son tighter to her chest, fighting images of Ichiro's murder in her mind.

"I don't want to hurt you, Asami-san. I don't want to hurt your son either."

"What can you possibly want with Yasotaro after four years? He cannot have owed you that much money." In truth, Ryo barely remembers her former husband explaining his situation to her, but as she understood it, he had not been a very big fish, in a small pond or otherwise. All she can remember of that night was her blinding anger. "It's been so long. Let it go."

"It's difficult to simply let a million yen go, Asami-san."

"A-a million? How is that even possible?"

"Your husband was a fool, but a smart fool when it came to business. Too smart, I would say."

Ryo stares at Satoh unblinkingly, clutching Ryuichi to her chest, though he struggles to get away from her.

"Kaasan," he whines.

"Not now, my love."

"What is that thing Satoh-san has?" he persists.

"It's a gun, kiddo. You want to see?"

Ryuichi bobbles his little head up and down. He reaches out for it, but is jerked back by his mother. "Kaasan," he whines again, "I wanna see it." He kicks and wriggles, but she holds him fast.

Satoh laughs, "Cute kid, Asami-san."

"Get out of my house," Ryo growls.

"Not until you tell me where he is, Lady Dragon."

"Where is who, Kaasan?"

"Nobody, my love."

Satoh smiles, but it is only out of mild amusement. He grows tired of this game. He knows Ryo has no idea where her husband is, but he must make a nice little show out of coming to her home and threatening her or else it's his own head the boss will be after. Admittedly, he respects Ryo a great deal for her spark and tenacity. Under other circumstances he might have- no. But she is a devastatingly beautiful woman, slight but strong with golden eyes she passed on to her son.

"Where is he, Asami-san?" he asks perfunctorily.

"I don't know, now just get out of my house."

Satoh rises from the chair and holsters his gun. Ryuichi looks visibly disappointed. "Alright, but I will be back. I trust you will have the information I need at that time." She won't and he knows it.

"Get out!"

Satoh strolls out of the bedroom, through the kitchen and the living room full of clothes and out the front door.

Ryo stays perfectly still until she hears the click and then scrambles to lock it, knocking over piles of freshly pressed laundry on her way.

Ryuichi follows her, climbing over the mess. "Kaasan, why were you so mean to Satoh-san?"

Ryo bends down to look her son in the eye. "He is a very, very bad man, Ryuichi. He stole something precious from mommy."

"Oh," he pauses. "What did he steal?"

"I will tell you one day, my love, but not tonight," she bites out, praying her son will not press any further.

Ryuichi knows her tone well enough to know to drop the subject. "Okay."

Ryo takes a deep breath and moves her son's face to meet her eyes. "Ryuichi, I am so sorry, but I'm going to break a promise I made to you. Will you forgive me?"

"What promise, Kaasan?"

"The promise that you would never have guns in your life. I need one to protect you now." She doesn't miss the way Ryuichi's eyes light up at her declaration.

"Okay Kaasan," Ryuichi wraps his arms around his mother's neck and kisses her on the cheek.

Ryo does not make the decision lightly and she questions it numerous times before signing up for the lecture and marching down to the police station.

She is the only woman there.

The men snicker and point when she walks in with Ryuichi in tow. She simply smiles a coy smile and cocks her hip, watching with satisfaction as they all color and look away.

Ryuichi watches with a confused look on his face.

"Konnichiwa," the officer giving the lecture tells her. "Name?"

"Hajimemashite," she responds, bowing slightly, "Asami Ryo desu."

He bows back just barely and looks for her name on the roster. "Asami-san, let me be frank. Hunting and skeet shooting are not typical activities for a woman like yourself," his eyes dart to Ryuichi as if deciding whether or not to throw her out based simply on the boy's presence.

"My father liked to shoot skeet when he was alive. I'd like to carry on the tradition," she lied, smiling. "He was very dear to me." In fact, Ryuichi's grandfather was not very dear to her at all, but he is dead. "I have just as much right to... enjoy the sport as anyone else, yes?"

The officer sighed, "You do."

"Kaasan, this one doesn't look like Satoh-san's," Ryuichi points to the shotgun sitting on the table in the front of the room. "I want one like Satoh-san," he states matter-of-factly.

Ryo quickly grabs her son, clamping her palm over his mouth. "Children can be so precocious," she laughs. "Satoh-san is our American friend. He has a handgun."

Ryuichi breaks free of his mother's hand. "But I thought you said he was a very-"

"Ryuichi, hush now or I'll spank you in front of all these nice men. How would you like that, hm?"

Ryuichi stops talking after that.

"He really is a good boy," she assures the group. "It's just his age." She shoots her son the evil stare that all women develop when they become mothers.

The officer raises his eyebrows, but says nothing on the matter. "Let's get started then."

During the break, Ryuichi runs around with his thumbs sticking up and his forefingers pointed out shouting "Bang bang!" at various objects around the room and even some of the men. Ryo tries to hide her shock, but can barely do so long enough to grab her son and drag him outside.

Later, when Ryo passes the test with flying colors, the officer can barely conceal his annoyance, but he hands her the paperwork needed for the next steps. "Take this one to the shooting range for your shot test and this one to the hospital so they can evaluate your mental state."

The next day, she is forced to take Ryuichi with her to the shooting range. Although she would have preferred not to given his current fanaticism for guns, she has never left him on his own and does not know any of her neighbors outside of their laundry.

Ryuichi stays close to his mother's side, as per her instructions, but gawks at everything he sees as if he were in a candy store instead. Ryo notices but decides not to comment on it in that moment.

When it is Ryo's turn to shoot, she is immediately an excellent shot, much to the shock of the proctor and the men around her, as well as herself.

"Kaasan, I want to shoot it too," Ryuichi tugs on her pant leg.

"Ryuichi, that is _enough_." She fires the gun at the target again, letting the recoil rocket through her, but appearing unfazed. "Guns are not toys!" His fascination with firearms has begun to worry her. She blames Satoh, though she has not seen him. Still, it took him four years to pay her a visit. Perhaps it will be another four.

"That's right, young man," the proctor begins. "Guns are very dangerous. You don't want Japan to become like America with so much violence, do you?"

Ryuichi isn't sure what the man is talking about so he looks at his mother who shakes her head and so he shakes his too.

The proctor has no choice but to pass Ryo, at which he is almost as annoyed as the officer who administered the first test.

At the hospital, Ryo passes the mental evaluation as easily as she passed the written examination.

Ryo is hopeful, even excited, until the detective shows up.

"Good afternoon, my name is Detective Ochida. Is Asami Ryu here?" He says as if reading from a script.

"I'm Asami _Ryo_. How may I help you?

"O-oh. Gomen nasai. May I please come in. I have a few questions regarding your application for a firearms license."

"Of course, Ochida-san." She leads him into the kitchen, swishing her hips just a little bit more than normal, and gestures for him to have a seat at the table. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Yes, please."

Ryo makes the tea, shooing her son out of the kitchen when he pokes his head in the doorway.

The detective, obviously young, takes a deep breath, sounding as nervous as Ryo feels. "If you receive a firearms license, Asami-san, how will you use your weapon?"

It's a very basic question, one Ryo is prepared for. Best to stick with the same story. "Shooting skeet. It was my father's hobby and I thought I might enjoy it in his memory."

"And uh... will you be able to provide police with a map of your home, detailing where the gun and ammunition are kept?"

Ryo turns on her charm, moving her hands as delicately as a trained geisha and smiling a polite but enticing smile at him. "Of course," she answers.

Ochida coughs. His hands are shaking and they probably ought not to have sent him to do this, but here he is. "Asami-san, let me cut right to the chase. To your knowledge, was you first son, Ichiro, killed by yakuza men?"

Ryo falters. She hadn't quite been prepared for them to ask about Ichiro, although she should have been. The case was never officially solved and she knows Satoh will never be brought to justice. "Well... uh. I believe it's still an open case... I can't say for sure."

"But he was shot once in the head and multiple times in the chest. My notes say you witnessed it yourself."

The memories come flooding back instantly- the blood, the horrible smell of gunpowder, her own scream that now doesn't even sound like hers- but she simply stands up straighter. "I don't see how that pertains to this."

"Well, Asami-san, we don't want you to seek revenge against the men who killed your son."

"I would not. The thought never crossed my mind." She wants to be more angry at him, but he is so young.

"In that case, my next question is about your former husband, Asami Yasotaro."

"What about him? As you can see, he is not here."

"We have discovered that he was doctoring books for a local yakuza boss, whom we cannot identify, and that he owes the man a good deal of money."

"Well he's not here, is he? So I don't see what that has to do with me." She knows at this point that her cause is lost. She has heard that those whose family members have ties to criminal organizations or criminal records are denied. There is nothing to say, no appeal to make. Anything she might say now would give her away, so she is quiet.

The young, tactless detective leaves, having denied her application for the license. The moment he is out the door, she is screaming into some woman's un-laundered yukata.

Ryuichi runs to her and rubs his little hand on her shoulder and gracelessly brushes back her hair from her face. "Don't cry, Kaasan. I'll get you a gun," he beams.

Ryo stops her crying and seizes her son by his shoulders, shaking him almost violently as she admonishes him, "No! Ryuichi, no! Don't you ever ever ever _ever _touch a gun, _ever_, do you understand me? Never!"

"Okay, Kaasan," he nods, slightly dazed.

That night, Ryo lies awake as her son sleeps next to her. She stays still so as not to disturb him. Her options are few. There is nothing left to do legally, but she can hardly sit and wait defenselessly for Satoh to return.

When she has reached her decision, she carefully extricates herself from her son's tight hug, but it's no use because she wakes him anyway.

"Kaasan?"

"Go back to sleep, my love."

"Okay," and he settles back in against a pillow.

Ryo takes a deep breath and tries not to think too hard about what she is about to do. She sneaks out of the bedroom, slipping on her shoes and her coat and feels sick to her stomach. She puts her hand on the doorknob and looks back because this will be the first time she has ever left Ryuichi alone for any length of time and what if...

There is no time for what if. She knows where she is going: one of Yasotaro's old friends who might know something about the underground dealings of the city of Tokyo.

She steals out of the house and into the night.

In the morning she returns with a shiny black handgun and a sack full of ammunition, which she carefully hides at the top of the closet. She crawls back into bed with Ryuichi and tries not to think about what she has just done.

**TBC.**

**-El  
**


	3. Chapter 1

**Okay, yeah. This is really it now. LOL. Special thanks to my new beta, Popping-Bubbles! She rocks!**

If there is one thing that seven year old Asami Ryuichi knows it is how to sneak out of his house. This is, of course, a necessity. His mother, Ryo, will not let him play outside without her, but she is often very busy doing laundry. Ryuichi tries to be good and play inside, but his legs get restless and his mind gets bored.

He doesn't understand why his mother won't let him play on his own or why she has to do other people's chores, though he is more concerned with being able to play with his friends. It's Sunday and he knows they are all outside having fun and playing ball.

He turns on his mother's record player in the bedroom so she won't be able to hear him slide open the door and tiptoe past her while she is turned toward the large tub in which she does laundry.

"Ryuichi!" Ryo calls over the music.

The boy freezes and scrambles as quietly as he can back to the room, sliding the door open and pretending he just poked his head out. "Yes, Kaasan?"

"Are you having fun in there?"

"Yes, Kaasan," he answers, making sure his tone conveys that he is absolutely not having fun.

"What did you say?"

"Yes. Can we go outside soon?"

Ryo sighs. "Not today, Ich-Ryuichi." It's happening more and more lately, the slight slip of the tongue. Always around this time of year.

"Okay." Ryuichi shuts the door as if he has gone back into the room, but hides behind a stack of freshly pressed and mended shirts. He makes a break for the front door of their first level apartment and dashes toward freedom.

Outside, he takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air, wishing his mother would let him play outside alone, so he wouldn't have to sneak out.

"Hey Ryuichi!" one of his friends flails his arms back and forth to get the golden-eyed boy's attention. The five other boys in the yard wave to him too.

"Soseki!" Ryuichi gives the slightly older boy a high five.

Soseki is Ryuichi's best friend, a position that all of the other boys in the neighborhood covet.

"So what are we going to do today?" Soseki asks, watching Ryuichi toss a baseball up and down. "You want to play ball?"

"We should ride our bikes!" a little boy named Mitsuo interjects. He hops back and forth from one foot to the next and smiles.

Everyone else immediately turns to glare at him and for one very good reason. Ryuichi does not have a bike.

Mitsuo falters, stammering, "Oh, right... sorry, Asami-kun."

Ryuichi simply smirks and brushes his hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it, I can just ride on Soseki's bike." Though he has figured out a way to stand on Soseki's bike, one foot on the bar, the other foot hanging off to the side, he wishes badly that he had his own bike. But he is smart enough to know that if he let the other boys see that, see how jealous he is, they would not listen to him as much. And the fact that they listen to him is way better than a bike that he wouldn't know how to ride anyway.

He knows they listen because they think he's smart and cool. Ryuichi is the best in his class at everything and all of the girls in his grade want to play with him and sometimes he plays with them. They smell nice, but they never want to play baseball, so he likes to play with other boys better.

Ryuichi pats his pocket, taking note of how much change he has. It's enough for now. "Hey guys, let's get some sweets." He spends almost all of what little money he has on candy, especially chocolate.

The boys all go to their bikes and Ryuichi waits patiently for Soseki to steady his so that he can climb on. It's riding on the back of Soseki's bike that makes Ryuichi feel so tall. Even though he is younger than most of the boys in the group, they all have to look up at him.

At the shop, he buys chocolate for himself and Soseki, one of the perks of being Ryuichi's best friend.

He stares at Soseki's bike as the boys eat their candies. He looks at the chocolate melting between his fingers and feels how empty his pocket is now and then he stares back at Soseki's bike. Soseki has the coolest bike and that is why he is Ryuichi's best friend. It is bright red with black and gold lightning bolts on it.

Ryuichi looks down at his chocolate again and thinks of all the chocolates he's eaten and all of the change he has spent on them. What if all that change could have been enough to buy a bike?

The chocolate doesn't taste as good now.

He stands up and announces, "I don't like sweets anymore," his mouth set in a firm line.

Soseki looks at him as if Ryuichi has suddenly turned bright purple. It's immediately apparent to the older boy that if Ryuichi isn't buying sweets for himself, there will be none for him either. "But Ryuichi... you love sweets more than any of us."

"Not anymore. They're too much money." It's at this point that Ryuichi also realizes how long he has been out and he needs to get home soon or else his mother will notice he is gone. "Come on, Soseki."

"O-okay."

At the apartment complex, it would have been easy for Ryuichi to sneak back into the apartment if not for one thing. One of his mother's clients by the name of Ogiwara Akane. She's an older woman, but has the eyes of a hawk and she does not miss Ryuichi jumping off of his friend's bike in the yard.

She walks out of the front door with a paper-wrapped package of freshly pressed clothes and looks straight at Ryuichi. "Shouldn't you be inside?" she asks.

He hesitates only a second before smiling at her and answering, "Yes ma'am. I'm going there now. Kaasan asked me to deliver an order for her so that she could stay and have your clothes ready in time." His delivery is absolutely perfect, not rushed in the slightest.

"You're such a good boy, Ryuichi," the older woman fawns, "your mother is so proud of you."

Ryuichi gulps guiltily. If his mother ever found out his secret, she would be so angry and then she would be even more strict, but worse than that she'd be upset and "disappointed" in him. "Well, I better go inside now, Ogiwara-san."

"Of course. Good bye, Ryuichi." She walks away smiling, "Such a good boy."

He sneaks back inside with relative ease, having done so many times before: behind the laundry piles, hiding under the noise of the record player. He slides open the door, again acting as if he has just opened it, "Kaasan, when can I go outside?" If he is lucky, she will say "now," but he's not lucky today.

"Not today, Ichiro," she freezes and looks at him, looks and looks and sees her dead son and can't look anymore. "Please work on your homework."

He sighs heavily, not noticing the slip in his name, but does as he is asked. He saves his math homework for last because it's his favorite with its concrete answers and clear sense.

By the time he is done with all of it, night is falling, but he asks anyway if they can go outside.

He sees his mother wipe her eyes, but she turns to him trying to smile, "Not tonight, Ryu, it is too dark now." As much as Ryo is afraid of Ryuichi playing outside alone, she is more afraid of the dark. Especially today. She watches his face fall, her second son, she cannot stand to look at him lately, knowing he is Ichiro's age, knowing how he looks like her Ichiro. But he is not and sometimes it makes her so angry she could storm out and just leave him there. For good.

This whole year has been an endless trial on her nerves. Ichiro was seven when he died and Ryuichi is seven now and it's just so easy to imagine...

She knows it is irrational, but she feels almost angry that Ryuichi will soon be eight years old, older than her Ichiro. Ryuichi will have outlived him and it just isn't fair. It just isn't fair. "Let's have some dinner," she says.

Ryo doesn't miss her son's disappointment at not being able to go outside. "Tomorrow, I promise we will go outside." She looks at him smile at her and all she can do is frown. Her world shifts and she turns away from her son, trying not to think about how much he looks like her first and what would Ichiro look like now? "Tomorrow."

"Okay," Ryuichi looks down and scuffs his foot against the floor. He wraps his arms around his mother. "I love you, Kaasan."

"Mmhm," she responds distractedly, mind still on Ichiro. She kisses Ryuichi's forehead and then walks into the kitchen to make dinner.

Ryuichi bites his lip, fighting tears. He doesn't cry. He never cries.

At night, he sleeps in the bed by himself now, while Ryo sleeps on a futon in the living room. Tonight, after Ryuichi is asleep, she pulls the bag full of bullets down from its hiding place in the closet and loads her gun because she knows. It comes as no surprise to her to find Satoh sitting on the edge of her bed, tonight of all nights. The anniversary of Ichiro's death.

"He's not here, I don't know where he is. Your money is gone," she mumbles and rolls over. "Now go away," her hand snakes toward the gun under the pillow.

"That's not why I'm here. Yes, the money is gone and now I must take it in some other form."

Ryo sits straight up, concealing the gun under her blankets. "You've already taken your payment in my son's blood," she hisses. "How dare you come here tonight."

"As if one child is worth one million yen," almost on cue, Satoh unholsters his gun. "Two might suffice."

Something in Ryo breaks and she points her own gun, a Baby Browning, and aims it straight at Satoh, her hands shaking, finger quivering on the trigger. "My Ichiro was worth more than ten million yen!"

Satoh laughs. "The little Dragon Lady went and got herself a gun." He sizes it up. The Browning is a tiny thing. It's old too and clearly not well-maintained. "You couldn't hurt a flea with that thing." Unconcerned, he stands up and walks toward the bedroom. After all, he does have a job to do. "Just how much is your Ryuichi worth to you?"

It's almost slow motion, though, how he hears the gun go off and then feels the bullet go right past his ear. The Lady Dragon has surprised him yet again.

"I missed on purpose that time," she lies, "Next time you won't be so lucky. Now get out. If I ever see you here again, I will kill you." She curses the gun, knowing she's a good shot, but the gun is just so old and her hands are shaking and she can't see straight.

Satoh raises his gun to her and cocks it. "I should shoot you instead of the brat. Is that what you want?"

Ryo flinches, barely, out of pure instinct, but she keeps the tiny pistol trained on Satoh. "Get out."

Satoh holsters his gun and holds up his hands, laughing a little under his breath. "Okay Dragon Lady, I'll leave." He has made his display of coming here and threatening her. His job is done. He almost smiles at her, feeling somewhat proud at her willingness to pull the trigger.

For her part, Ryo is terrified and furious, but her fight or flight response is heavily weighted toward fight and she stands up, gun still raised, pushing Satoh out the door. "Get out of my house!" She shoots again and hits the door frame.

"Alright, take it easy, lady!" Satoh still can't help but laugh. This is the first time he has ever been shot at by a woman and part of him is glad it is Ryo, if only because her gun is old and not very reliable. He pushes the door open behind his back, still holding one hand up, palm exposed.

Ryo follows him out the door, body shaking, face set in hard lines and her knuckles turning white on the gun. She steps out of the house and into the night, only able to catch a vague shadow of Satoh. Her mind is racing and this is the man who shot Ichiro and he lives and Ryuichi lives and they all live while her son is dead and this man doesn't deserve the air he breathes. She shoots four times, until the clip is empty. She watches, half in shock, half in satisfaction as he stops, clutching his right thigh, before taking off again.

By now, lights are starting to come on in the apartments above and Ryo chases after Satoh, screaming and throwing her slippers, dropping her gun, and then throwing whatever rocks she can pick up at her feet. "Leave us alone!"

Ryuichi wanders outside, rubbing his eyes until he sees something shiny a few feet from the front step. His eyes light up as he realizes what it is and picks it up as though it were a precious treasure. He giggles in delight and aims it at nothing. "Bang!" He pulls the trigger though the round is empty and all it makes is a slight clicking noise. It doesn't really matter to him. "Bang bang!"

Ryo turns around at the sound of her son's voice and sees him waving the gun around and shouting. Her blood runs cold and then burning hot and she clenches her fists. "Ryuichi!"

He stops everything as his mother pierces him with one of her most lethal looks, one Ryuichi has never seen before.

Ryo points her finger toward the house, shaking now with rage. "Drop that and get inside."

He does as he is told and that's when the sirens come.

Kicking the gun into the bushes, Ryo waits, still shaking when the police arrive. Thinking quickly, she is deliberately vague, claiming that the whole ordeal was too overwhelming for her to remember. She lets them think it was the intruder who fired the shots. It's easy enough to believe, after all, she is just a poor, struggling single mother.

When they are gone, Ryo grabs her gun, runs into the house and seizes her son, shaking him violently. "What did you think you were doing, Ryuichi?" He doesn't answer, just looks away, so she slaps him hard across his face. "Look at me! What if that had bullets in it?"

"...but it didn't," he mutters as if that somehow took the fun out of it.

She slaps him again. "Guns are not toys, Ryuichi!" She cries out in frustration and shakes him again. "You're never to touch one again, is that understood?" But she knows he will anyway and it scares her, that her son loves them so much. She almost tells him about his brother and what happened as if it would change his mind about guns, but he's too young. "Never again," she pauses, "Shorts off."

He nods solemnly and obeys, then bends over Ryo's bed as she hits him three times with her open hand against his bare bottom.

"Now go back to bed, Ichi-." She clenches her body and then sighs.

He nods again. "I love you, Kaasan."

"Go to bed, _Ryuichi_," she growls out his name as if it is a curse upon her.

"Okay. I love you."

"I said go to bed!" She turns toward her bed, straightening the sheets and pillows. Out of nowhere, she feels too small arms wrap around her waist and she smiles a little bit, for the first time that night. She wraps her arms around her boy, feeling suddenly relieved, but she does not look at him. She closes her eyes and kisses his hair over and over again. "Now get off to bed. You have school in the morning."

Ryuichi goes to bed and cries himself to sleep with sore cheeks and a sore bottom.

In the morning, there is a perfectly made, intricate bento box on the table for him.

**TBC.**

**-El  
**


	4. Chapter 2

**Alright, so here's the next installment. This is completely new stuff, never posted anywhere before. YAY! I'm quite happy with how this is turning out so far and I have a lot of really big things planned for this fic.**

**Thank you thank you thank you to my beta, Popping-Bubbles!**

**Anyway, enjoy!  
**

Nine year old Asami Ryuichi lies fallen and trapped amongst piles of laundry that have been strategically placed by his mother, Ryo, to confirm what she has suspected for some time: Ryuichi has been sneaking out.

Not aware of her plan, but well aware of the noise he just made, Ryuichi looks to see if he has been caught only to find Ryo standing over him. "Busted," he grumbles as his head falls into a stack of shirts.

Ryo says nothing, just stands above him with an inscrutable look on her face.

The adrenaline rush of sneaking out quickly morphs into fear and little tremors shake Ryuichi's body as he awaits the beating he knows will come.

But it doesn't.

"I'm almost impressed," she murmurs, holding out her hand to help her son up.

He takes her hand and hoists himself up, but still averts his eyes, his face red with embarrassment.

"How long?" she asks.

He says nothing, but his mouth is open as if he's trying.

"Ryuichi?"

Finally, he stammers out, "I don't know... awhile."

Ryo frowns. She gestures for him to sit at the table and begins tidying up the kitchen. Her back turns to him as she washes the dishes, setting each glass down with no sound. There is no clanking of dishes as she cleans each one in turn.

Ryuichi sits in terrified silence.

At last, Ryo sighs, "You're almost ten now. I suppose it isn't fair to keep you locked up in the house."

Not sure what to say, Ryuichi doesn't respond.

With her back to him still, she heaves a breath and sets down one glass with a tiny clink. "You had a brother once."

"What? But I... you..."

"He died five days before you were born."

"Oh," the young boy shifts in his seat until he notices his mother's shoulders are shaking. She's crying and Ryuichi has never seen her cry before.

"His name was Ichiro," Ryo continues though her voice is audibly breaking. "He was only seven and they shot him," she points out the window where the other children are playing, "right out there."

Ryuichi's eyes widen. "Shot?"

Ryo grits her teeth, "Yes, by a damn yakuza."

"Yakuza?" Ryuichi raises his eyebrow. "Kaa-san. Yakuza? _Really?_ You're making this up just to scare me."

Now Ryo looks at her second son, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, yakuza. And that man looked me in the eye after he shot my son and then walked away."

"Oh." There is nothing else to say.

Ryo pulls out a small picture from her pocket and stares at it awhile, wiping her eyes, before sliding it across the table. "I swear, you look just like him."

Ryuichi ponders the picture while his mother explains about his father's debt, but he really can't see any of himself in the face of the smiling Ichiro.

"Your father," she spits out, "God, your father. He owed them money. So they shot my son. The best thing he ever did was leave."

Ryuichi has never heard anything about his father before now. All questions have always been met with "Not now" or "I'm too busy, Ryuichi". When he was younger, he had always imagined his father was a spy or something equally exciting, but as he got older, he just assumed that his father was dead and that his mother didn't want to talk about it. Sometimes he wondered if he ever had a father at all.

He shifts in his seat again as his mother cries. He frowns and clenches his fists. He has friends, but the only person he really loves in the world is his mother and he hates anyone who hurts her. And his brother. He had a brother once and if his brother were still alive, he'd be able to go out and play or at least have someone to play with inside.

Ryuichi closes his fists so hard his nails dig into his palms.

Ryo takes back the picture and presses it to her heart as she sinks into the chair across from her son.

Ryuichi stands and buries his fingers in her hair, tucking her head under his chin.

She turns and pushes away from him. "My good boy," she smiles, "and then they said I'd lose you too, but look at you now."

Of course, Ryuichi is small for his age, but catching up. It is almost his tenth birthday which means it's been almost ten years since his brother was killed and it explains so much about why his mother never really wanted to celebrate his birthday. Why she'd give him his present and then shut herself up in her room for the rest of the day. Why she hadn't said "I love you" in years. Why she would get a far off look in her eyes and sometimes stand perfectly still for an hour and then move as if nothing happened.

Ryuichi moves to hug her again but she pushes him away once more.

"Kaa-san..."

"Ryuichi, just... just go out and play if you want to so badly."

Taken aback, the boy blinks. "O-okay, Kaa-san." He slips out the front door, but only sits on the front step, shrugging off the other kids when they ask him to play and thinking of all the things in his life that make so much more sense now.

No one in the Asami household speaks for the next few days. Ryo cries as though the loss of her first son is fresh and Ryuichi has no idea what to say to her so he feeds himself and folds laundry in her place.

On the night of that terrible anniversary, Satoh finds him curled up asleep on the kitchen floor with a crumpled-up yukata for a pillow. The man limps past him to the bedroom.

There he finds Ryo keening in the dark with Ichiro's old blanket clutched to her chest.

"Well, you're rather a mess," he croons sardonically, almost as if hoping to snap her out of it.

"Go away," she mumbles into the blanket.

"Now, now, you know that's not how this works, Lady Dragon. Where is your fire tonight?"

"Just be quiet. I'll shoot you in the mouth."

"I doubt your gun could make the shot," he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. He raises his hand to place it on her calf, meant to be comforting, but thinks better of it and rests his palm on his own knee.

"How many times have I told you to go to Hell? He's not here. I don't know where he is. He's probably dead and good riddance."

Satoh grabs her chin and looks her in the eye with what he hopes is a meaningful look. "So long as you are here, Asami-san, I will be forced to return."

Ryo wrenches out of his grip, fighting mad until his words sink in. Her eyes scan the room full of ghosts and Ryuichi's toys and suddenly moving doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Your son is a good boy. You don't have to hate him so much for something I did," Satoh remarks suddenly.

Ryo slaps him soundly across the face. "I love Ryuichi! And I don't need parenting advice from someone like you!"

He snatches her wrist when she raises her hand to hit him again. "Enough," he mutters, standing up and releasing her. "I'm leaving. Your son is asleep on the kitchen floor, if it matters to you." And then he is gone again.

Ryo forces herself up from the bed and plods into the kitchen. There is her second son, lying on the floor with half-done laundry scattered throughout the apartment. It isn't that Ryo doesn't love her boy, she knows. She certainly doesn't hate him, but it's too hard to remain attached to him. The older he gets, the more precarious his life seems to her.

"Ryuichi," she bends down and prods him gently, "Ryuichi, wake up."

"Kaa-san..."

She tugs on his arms and helps him up. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"I love you, Kaa-san," he mumbles, still half asleep.

Ryo smiles and kisses the top of his head. "My good boy," she whispers. She tucks him in and lies down on her side of the bed for awhile, but only tosses and turns until she can't stand it any longer. She gets up and traces her finger over his cheek before going to lie down on her futon.

A few days later, on August 4th, 1986, Ryo calls her son outside to present him with the first bicycle he has ever had. It is chrome with blue and green detailing and white mag wheels. Even though Ryuichi's face lights up like it never has before, Ryo cannot bring herself to think of anything other than how old her first son would be now and how she thought she'd be relieved once Ryuichi was older than seven.

Ryuichi throws his arms around his mother. "Thank you, Kaa-san! Thank you, thank you!"

She hugs him back and does smile until she remembers what she needs to tell him today. She pulls back from him with her hands on his shoulders. "Ryuichi..." she takes a deep breath, "Happy Birthday," she says on her exhale.

He tilts his head in confusion. "Thank you, Kaa-san."

She pulls him close, threading her fingers in his hair. "Alright," she says, pulling back and smiling at him, really smiling at him for the first time in a long time, "let's get you on that bike."

Ryuichi climbs onto the bike, which is only slightly too big for him. Ryo holds it up for him and then releases him only to giggle as he falls down two feet away with the bike on top of him. She pulls the bike off of him, standing it upright and looking down at him. "Not bad for your first try," she says.

Ryuichi glares up at her and holds out his hand for her to help him up.

She moves the bike away, but doesn't help him up. "Get up, come on. Try again."

He picks himself up off the ground and gets on the bike again. This time, Ryo holds onto the seat, holding the bike steady as Ryuichi figures out how to pedal. "That's it, good job," she encourages.

His arms and legs are shaky, but his golden eyes are sharp and focused. "Kaa-san, let go!"

"Okay." She does, only to watch him fall to the ground again. This time, she helps him up and holds out the bike for him to try again.

He shakes his head, "I scraped my knee," he says.

"And you're going to let a little thing like that stop you. Come on. Up, up, up," she urges.

Ryuichi gets up again and straddles the bike, not hopping onto the seat just yet. "Kaa-san... my knee really hurts."

"Ryuichi," Ryo leans against the handlebars in front of her son and stares him down, not missing the pain in his eyes. "You only fell down twice. Do you want to learn how to ride this bike or not?"

He nods, "I want to learn."

"When you want to learn something, don't ever let anything or anyone stand in your way," she smirks. "Got it?"

Ryuichi smirks back, matching his mother's expression. "Got it." He takes off pedaling, forcing Ryo to jump out of the way. He pedals until he's halfway down the street with Ryo chasing after him.

"Ryuichi, get back here!"

Eyes now wide, he calls back, "Kaa-san! I don't know how to stop!"

Ryo begins to laugh as she runs after her son and for a moment she forgets about Ichiro and forgets about Satoh and forgets about everything except her son, flying down the street, pedaling too fast with the wind whipping at his hair. She finally catches up to him after three blocks, "Ryuichi, press the brake, _slowly_," she cries breathlessly, reaching for the back of the bike seat.

He does and skids clumsily to a stop, only to fall over once again, taking his mother down with him this time. She holds him tight to her and laughs until she begins to cry and then she holds him tighter. "Ichiro..." she sobs.

Ryuichi wraps his arms around her until she is ready to get up.

When she does, she dries her eyes and picks up the bike, walking it back toward the house. It's starting to get dark. "That was good, Ryu, but we can try again some more tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you, Kaa-san."

Before pulling the bike inside, Ryo stops and ruffles her son's hair, remembering what it was she had to tell him earlier. "Ryuichi."

"Yeah?"

"We have to move."

"What? Why?"

"I can make more money if we move to Tokyo," which is true and now Ryo wonders why she never thought of it before.

"But I like it here! This is home!"

Otari is the only home Ryuichi has ever known and even Ryo has lived there most of her life. Ryuichi looks at the bike and then out at the sidewalk where his mother told him his brother was shot. And for one brief moment, he sees the smiling boy from the photograph staring back at him from that spot. He wonders if his mother ever sees Ichiro there too. He turns back to his bike and when he looks up again, the boy is gone.

"Ryuichi, you'll like Tokyo," she says, "School is better there and there are more kids to play with..." she trails off.

He smiles up at her. "Okay, Kaa-san."

**TBC.**

**-El  
**


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